


(Not) Ultimate Despair Trio

by shsl_saltine



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Implied Relationships, Mastermind Kirigiri Kyouko, Mastermind Naegi Makoto, Mastermind Togami Byakuya (Dangan Ronpa), Multi, Not heavily romantic, Swap (sort of) with SDR2 cast and DR1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shsl_saltine/pseuds/shsl_saltine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rise and fall of the three ultimates that brought despair to the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Makoto Naegi

**Author's Note:**

> a really complex au i suppose. This is a 3 parter, and before you get worried, the other two parts are almost ready to publish. they will come out i promise. i learned that rereading my work at night stresses me out, so after i post this i probably wont read it until tomorrow or later. feel free to comment with any corrections, or just any opinions. i love hearing back from my readers! anyways, please enjoy and i hope you look forward to the continuation.

He was the Ultimate Hope. The poster boy of optimism. The ray of light in a weary world. His name was Makoto Naegi, and he was known worldwide for his messages of friendship. Hope’s Peak Academy scouted him under the guise of Ultimate Luckster, yet he was there so they could study the way his hope seemed contagious and the way his influence entranced people of all ages, races, and genders. He was a force to be reckoned with, they had to understand him.

 

Arriving to Hope’s Peak was his dream, but it soon melted to a nightmare. He wasn’t superior at all; Not in intelligence, sports, or arts. As far as Hope’s Peak was concerned, and by association he and the rest of the school, he was just lucky. Some average nobody who won a raffle. He was cast aside as soon as he entered the halls.

 

Junko Enoshima was the one to pull him out of the slums. She recognized in him what the scouts had. He had influence, he could move mountains with his small stature. If she could break his hope, she could use his influence to control the masses. If she could break his spirit, she could have the world.

 

And she was right. It wasn’t simple to break his already dwindling spirit, but she’d done it. Looking back and reminiscing, he would wonder why he’d given in so easily. Maybe it was that he’d finally been wanted. Junko chased after him like he was a prize, like he’d been something of a catch. Maybe he gave in to accept the feeling of being someone’s trophy, more than just an average kid with an above average leaning in luck. Maybe he’d already accepted, somewhere deep inside himself, that he was despairing. Maybe he just let it consume him. He couldn’t really rationalize it, after all there was no reasoning in despair. Despair existed as an entirely separate entity that seemed to exist somewhere beyond rationalization. Despair was despair, and now that despair was him.

 

He’d surpassed Junko’s expectations. She’d been hoping for another mindless follower, but what she received was a mastermind. She didn’t understand it at the time, but he’d had a taste of the ultimate hope. The despair he felt was something Junko wished for. It was like all light had vanished in his eyes, all optimism from his speech. He was a changed man, and he could thank Junko for it. When he walked in the halls, he didn’t slouch out of view. When he smiled, he made sure to grin. When he spoke to someone, he didn’t shy away from eye contact. Without hope, he didn’t have those fears. And without fear, his influence spread without hesitation. He was more influential than Junko had expected, or even wanted. For someone who complained at constant about being bored, Makoto was surprised with how upset she’d become when his influence surpassed hers and her plan had been ruined. But that didn’t stop him, and he didn’t hesitate to leave her behind and take on plans of his own. If she wanted the second years, she could have them. His sights were set on the bigger prize.

 

\------------

 

She was neither the light, nor the darkness. She wasn’t in the open, nor did she hide in the shadows. In the world of black and white, she existed as gray. Kyouko Kirigiri, the Ultimate Detective.

 

She’d spent her life struggling. There was never rest for someone who pursued the truth. But she’d accepted this life of trying and danger. She wasn’t allowed another option. She was a Kirigiri and to respect her name, she had to risk her life. Her grandfather had told her when she was young, the shame it brought her family when someone of their blood refused their destiny. Her father had been disowned, her body burned and scarred, her life hollow all for the pursuit of truth and honor. She felt empty, and somehow at times she questioned herself if truth could even be worth the despair she felt that entrapped her.

 

Meeting Makoto was a different experience for her. She’d seen him in the hallways of the school she never wanted to attend, but meeting him in person was different. His eyes seemed to hold a controlled danger like she’d never seen, and his grin curled in a way that enticed her to stare a little longer.

 

“Kyouko Kirigiri, right?” The brunet said after weeks of her observing him. She supposed she’d finally been caught staring. “My name is Makoto. Makoto Naegi.” There was something about his voice. Something calming. Inviting.

 

“I know,” She responded coyly and watched as his smile grew. Well, she wouldn’t classify it as a smile. It was a grin, and as innocent as it looked, she could feel the way it radiated anguish.

 

“I was wondering, since you have been staring at me for quite some time now, if you’d like to join me in getting coffee after class. I can tell you things about me you won’t get by staring.” She watched as he let out a chuckle, the sound of tinkling bells but she felt like it held more malice than he implied.

 

She accepted, for the chance to get to study the enigma that was the Ultimate Luckster, Makoto Naegi. The boy whose picture held hopeful eyes and a cheery smile. The boy who confronted her with a calculated grin and dark eyes. The boy with chestnut brown hair and mysteries surrounding him. Whether it was curiosity, attraction, or a healthy mixture of both, it pushed her to accept.

 

That day, he’d sat across from her with his hands folded on the table. Her glove clad fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, she stared at him. He didn’t back down from her challenge.

 

“So, Miss Kirigiri, I know I invited you here to get to know me, but I instead had a few things to ask you first.” He continued to smile, as if he’d always been smiling. She wondered if there was a time when he didn’t look so content. She rationed that he was hiding something darker.

 

“I’m afraid that there isn’t much I can answer, but you may ask anyways,” She responded simply and set her coffee down to answer him properly. His smile widened at her and she could tell instantly that it wasn’t genuine. Whether he tried to mask it, the boy was an open book. His eyes told a story his smile couldn’t hide.

 

“Well, I just want to know why you’re so intent on isolating yourself.” She blinked and furrowed her brow, but let him continue. “You know, I’ve heard the rumors. I know your dad is the headmaster, and I know he did something so unforgivable that you’ve decided to shut yourself out.” She opened her mouth rebuttal, to silence him, and even though he’d seen, he continued to talk. “I’m not sure what it was, and I won’t ask you to tell me. But I want to know why you think that being alone will benefit you.”

 

Something shifted in him. His mask fell, and the calculated smirk she’d seen earlier reappeared. This wasn’t the picture of optimism she’d seen in her father’s papers. He leaned on his elbows but continued to stare into her violet eyes. 

 

“Someone of your intelligence, your talent, your beauty; You know you’re capable of so much more, right?” She scowled and let out a heavy sigh. 

 

“Listen Makoto, I have made my decisions and I know what’s best for myself. I’m sure I know where this is going, and I fear I’m going to have to decline now,” She said with a frown, but that maddening grin he had continued to curl onto his tanned cheeks.

 

“Oh Kyouko, you’re selling me short here. Do you honestly think I’m hitting on you?” He chuckled and broke eye contact with her long enough to shake his head.

 

“No, but I-”

 

“Just hear me out.” He cut her off and once again his intense gazed burned through her. Her fists clenched in her lap, the sound of leather making her feel more vulnerable to his stare. “I want to work with you. I want to show you how to use those terrible feelings you’ve been shutting out. I’ve learned the hard way that you can’t run from them, so why not utilize them?”

 

Makoto was a persistent person. He was constantly at her side, he grew on her. She let down her guard, and finally--

 

“Kyouko, please. I want to show you what we could be, if we worked together.”

 

“Alright, Makoto. I trust you.”

 

\--she let herself fall.

 

\------------

He was alone, but that was alright. He was above everyone else, and the top of the top was destined to be alone. His pride kept him from being on the same level as them. His influence and power made it acceptable, it validated his suffering and even offered a reason for him to hide it. He was Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Progeny.

 

He’d been alone as a child, growing up in a country across the sea. “You’re of royal blood,” He’d been told, “You can’t be friends with lowly pigs like them.” Then, he was separated from his mother and introduced to others of his stature. He ended their lives with his own hands. His mother returned, but he was more isolated than before. The barriers of responsibility, status, and past kept him away from the others. Above the others, he’d told himself. 

 

If he’d been honest, he’d never seen Makoto in the crowd of plain faces. He was as average as average came, brown hair and hazel eyes weren’t something to take notice of. Even his uniform was basic compared to the others. But for someone like him to meander out of the crowd and confront Byakuya, maybe he couldn’t be as normal as those surrounding him. 

 

“You’re the Ultimate Affluent Progeny, right? Byakuya Togami, right?” He’d asked after class, disrupting the even silence the blond had been reading in.

 

He didn’t bother looking up, and continued to skim page to page. “Yes, but I’m busy. I’ll need you to leave.” 

 

He could hear Makoto sit on the desk beside him and hum. “A book can wait, I’m sure. This is important. Something I need to discuss with you.”

 

A disgruntled sigh left him, and he set the book down. “What could someone as common as you have to discuss with me? I don’t have time to speak with a civilian like you.”

 

A coy smile curled onto his face. “Please, don’t speak to me like I’m so below you. Besides, my name is Makoto. You can call me that instead of civilian.”

 

Byakuya recoiled at the tone he used, and how casually he’d been addressed. He’d never been spoken to like that, he didn’t have a response beyond glaring at the brunet. He took that as the goahead to continue.

 

“I know a lot about you, and a lot about your traditions as a Togami. My friend Kyouko has been filling me in,” He hummed and his intense stare continued to pierce blue eyes. “I personally think it’s shameful, to force their most promising heir into isolation. They didn’t care about what they did to you, all the trauma they forced you through, did they?” His tone was mock sympathetic, and Byakuya narrowed his glare.

 

“What do you mean trauma? I’m perfectly fine, and proud to be a Togami! Now I’ve had enough of this, and of you.” The blond spat, but Makoto simply leaned forward. The look in his eyes said he had hoped for this reaction.

 

“You wouldn’t be angry unless you felt the need to defend yourself. You wouldn’t need to defend yourself if I was wrong,” He said slowly, calmly, and provoked another tense silence from the heir. “Byakuya, don’t lie to me. I only want to help you. I believe that if you join Kyouko and I, we could reach power and influence beyond that of the Togami corporation.” The blond wanted to argue with him, tell nothing would be more influential than his family, but he couldn’t say anything. “I know that somewhere, you’re longing for some sort of interaction. Someone you can call a friend.” His smile mocked a genuine one as he continued. “I can be that, even if I’m just a commoner right now. I can help you accept your past traumas, even use them to help you grow as a person. You don’t have to shut them out and block yourself off from others.”

 

Byakuya didn’t understand what he was hearing, and simply stood and left the room. However, Makoto proved to be persistent. He wanted Byakuya, for what the blond wasn’t sure. He slowly ruled out that it was for his influence, because upon closer observation, Makoto had a control over people like he’d never seen. But whenever he was asked, he was reassured that Makoto simply wanted to help and be his friend.

 

He didn’t know when he started to believe him.

 

He didn’t know when he let himself fall.

 

\-----------

“I’m surprised, Makoto,” Junko praised him as she pulled him out of the hallway. He gave her the same coy smile she felt she’d taught him, and she returned it in full. “You really pulled it off. Though, these chumps are useless. I’m not sure why you’d waste your time manipulating them.” Her tone was casual, flippant as she offended the brunet. However, he was different from the blonde. He kept his cheerful mask, where she wasn’t afraid to show her disposition. Perhaps that was also a reason for him being better than her.

 

He sighed, shaking his head as his maleficent smile stayed intact. “You can’t really think that you’re any better than me. You haven’t managed to get any of class 77 to listen to you,” He paused to hum, picking at his sleeves with disinterest. “When did this become a competition, anyways? Why don’t we work together?” He slowly looked back up at her. “If we work together, we can get most of our class under our influence. Then you can go through with that stupid mutual killing thing with that failed class 77. I’ll keep the outside under control.”

 

She didn’t trust a word that came from his mouth, but it didn’t matter what she trusted. She would prove to be successful, and once she was done with him, she’d rid herself of him and his ridiculous friends.

  
He had different plans, in fact, plans that he, Kyouko, and Byakuya had been working on together. She was playing into their game, and she was an idiot for it. Ah well, arrogance always came before the fall.


	2. Beginning of the End

Despair. A spiraling abyss of havoc that could never come to an end. A path with deeper valleys and higher peaks than anyone had transversed. It was terrifying and exciting, confusing and enveloping, and somehow without Junko, Makoto found himself questioning every step he took. Despair was… empty. Hollow. It was fire that burned him from the inside, leaving him nothing but ashes. Was it only Junko’s presence that had kept the flames of despair roaring through him?

 

He began to wonder this as he watched her execution for the umpteenth time. He watched unblinking as three students- a gamer, a reserve course student, and a luckster much like himself- had ended the reign of the queen of chaos. He watched as three kids with ordinary talents- or lack thereof- murdered the goddess who’d ended his predictable life and opened the door to this one. God, he hated her, but he still found himself disgusted that she had met such a pitiful end. Perhaps he’d wanted to be the one to end her life, to do what she had done to him. Or maybe he was ashamed he wasn’t able to accomplish such a simple task.

 

“Mako, watching that won’t make you feel better,” Kyouko had said as she leaned on the back of the couch, her lavender hair falling beside him. He didn’t look away from his screen, but took her silky locks into his fingers and idly began to comb through them.

 

“Who says something is wrong?” He murmurs before sighing. A coy smile curls onto Kyouko’s face, he doesn’t have to look to see it.

 

“You’re easy to read,” She hums, and it’s a statement he’s heard too many times. “You’ve been really lethargic lately, and a little standoffish. You know you can tell us what’s wrong.”

 

He rolled his eyes, a smile making it’s way to his face. “You know, holding it in makes it fester. It’s almost better that way, it doubles the despair.” He wondered if she could hear how hollow that statement felt to him. He could barely tell if he wanted despair, he wondered if she could see that in him.

 

As he was lost in thought, she’d slipped around the couch to sit beside him. He leaned his head in her lap and kicked up his feet, grabbing the remote and rewinding the video once again. This time, he could feel her gloved fingers comb through his hair as she began to speak. “Makoto, have you been feeling alright?” He simply gave a hum, listening as the brunet- the reserve course student- shouted his accusations at Junko. She accepted them with a grin, and the gamer soon spoke up to add to his list.

 

“Makoto, don’t ignore my question,” She warned and he sighed, finally tearing his eyes from the screen to look up at her. He knew that with one glance, she would see through him. Maybe he wanted her to, maybe he wanted to be found out. He began to wonder what they would do to him when they found out.

 

“I’m not ignoring it,” He answered and her collected expression furrowed into one of stern concern. He watched as she waited for him to finish his statement, but as he continued to hesitate, she finally sighed.   
  
“Then why aren’t you answering?”

 

_ Because how would you respond if I did? _

 

Maybe they’d kill him there. That seemed like a good idea; All he was good at was despair, it was the only reason he’d ever be remembered, and if he could no longer fulfill that purpose he deserved to be erased from history. Afterall, that’s what would’ve happened had he not encountered Junko in the first place.

 

And with that he realized his answer to her.

 

“You’re a smart girl, Kyouko,” A smirk played on his lips, and he answered her how Junko would’ve answered. “I think you know the answer.” He didn’t know if she knew, but this would prove it. He supposed he was prepared for the consequences.

 

Her look fell to one of shock, then concentration as he stared up at her with a grin. He could see her reeling with the new information, watching as she slowly connected the dots. But, before he could listen to her come to a conclusion, he sat up just enough to press his lips to her. Maybe it was fear that pushed him to distract her, he could be facing death after all. Maybe he just wanted to delay the punishment until he could tell Byakuya himself, or give him to ensure he’d be remembered through one final act. He wasn’t sure of much anymore. But he was sure that she had accepted his distraction, and for the moment let him get away with it.

 

They stayed in this position until Byakuya walked into the room, sitting beside them and jarring them from each other.

 

“As fun as that looks,” The blond began, further distracting Kyouko from concluding what Makoto had been leading her to. “We have something important to discuss.”

 

\------------

 

Kyouko stared out at the city, the power flickering once again. Rolling blackouts were frequent, however the trio was lucky. The Togami manor, where they had been residing, had a generator on the grounds. They could live in luxury while the world crumbled at their feet.

 

As she leaned against the railing and let out a slow sigh, Makoto’s voice ringing through her ears.

 

_ “You’re a smart girl, Kyouko. I think you know the answer.” _

 

And she did know the answer. She could see it in his moves, but she denied it. She turned a blind eye to the way his statements became hollow, or the way he seemed to look to them for guidance now.

 

Makoto Naegi was the one he who’d lead them into this dark world, he’d guided them through everything they’d done. He helped mastermind everything, and he’d been so enthusiastic that it seemed to spread to them.

 

But all that changed when Junko had died. With her, Makoto’s spirit had gone. He seemed to wander the manor by himself, as if he needed to be alone to think.

 

_ But what would he need to think about that he couldn’t discuss with us? He’d trusted us with everything before, he’d worn every emotion on his sleeve. Why is he now trying to hid from us? _

 

“...He doesn’t want to be despair anymore…” And she winced as the words hit her ears. If Makoto was no longer on their side, whose side was he on? What would they do without Makoto? Could she even do something to him? She felt like she had to, a part of her said that she couldn’t let him betray them. But… Perhaps a part of her was with Makoto. Part of her knew that despair, without Junko to mastermind it, would fall way to hope and they would soon be out of everything they’d invested in. Part of her knew that she would never be truly the Ultimate Despair, and neither would Byakuya or Makoto.

 

“Kyouko.” Came a deep voice, and soon someone’s chin is resting on her head, slender arms around her waist.  “He told you what he told me, did he not?” Byakuya asked and she sighed once more before humming in approval.

 

“What will you do?” She asked as her gaze stayed focused on the smoldering remains of a former apartment complex. “You know what he is feeling, so what are you going to do?”   
  


He pauses a moment, and with that she can assume he’s had the same thought process as her. “I could ask you the same. What are you going to do?”

 

The light of the city soon flickered to life, and she squinted her eyes. “I… I think I’m going to follow him.”

 

The silence is deafening, but he has yet to pull away or become enraged. “Why?”

 

“Because, regardless of Makoto’s reasoning, he’s right in leaving behind despair. Perhaps it’s luck, but he is always on the winning side.”

 

“What do you mean?” He asked carefully and Kyouko’s shoulders began to sag.

 

“Despair will never win, not without the true despair here to fuel the fires. Without Enoshima, hope is the winning side. Makoto was right to fall away.” She runs her gloved hand through her hair, her fingers curling near the ends.

 

Byakuya doesn’t say anything, but from the inside they can hear Makoto on the phone. “I think we should go in and discuss what we know with him,” Kyouko suggested and Byakuya nodded, pulling away to lead her inside.

 

\------------

 

He was laying on the bed, and there were tears rolling down his cheeks but he had an insufferable smile on his face. Byakuya swore he would never understand him, and he had yet to be proven wrong.

 

“I never realized how heavy despair was…” Makoto murmured and Kyouko is sitting by his side. “Now that I’ve given up, it’s all rushing to me. And it hurts.” He laughs a little, but it covers a sob.

 

Byakuya made his way to the edge of the bed as he processed the luckster’s words. He was right, it was an unbearable weight in his chest and now that he’d come to admit that he was losing, he was drowning in it.

 

“How much time do we have until they arrive?” Kyouko asked as she turned to the blond, and his blue eyes darted to the wall clock.

 

“Not much longer. Do we have everything ready?” He turned back in time to see her nod as she brushed the hair from Makoto’s forehead.

 

“Do we really want to go through with this?” She asked softly, her violet eyes trained on the brunet who wiped his tears. Byakuya wanted to say he was pitiful, but he knew better than anyone the despair that must be crushing him. So instead, he sat silently by his side.

 

“The only thing I’ve ever been good at is spreading despair…” He says and he stares at the wall in front of him. “The only reason I’ve ever mattered is because I became despair… If I bring Junko back, even if I die in the process, it’ll be worth it. I’ll have done something worthwhile. My death won’t be in vain.” He looks at them with his tearful hazel eyes and continues to smile. Regardless of the situation, the smile was one that the former heir had grown to trust. It brought him comfort.

 

“So we are really going to try and resurrect Enoshima,” The blond muttered and Makoto nodded blankly. “Alright then, I trust your judgement.” He says and his hazel eyes dart to the taller male. He offered a reassuring smile, one to return all the brunet had given. “You’ve yet to steer us wrong, Makoto. We are behind you till the end.”

 

Both him and Kyouko were stunned silent, and the heir knew they probably weren’t expecting something so reaffirming from him. However, what was more stunning was the laugh that came from Makoto.

 

“You know,” He says and his laugh isn’t disturbing. It’s cheerful, which is even more shocking. “If I’d had people like you to begin with, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Kyouko quickly turns to glance at Byakuya, but he keeps his silent attention on the luckster. “Imagine how amazing it would’ve been to have people like you from the start… Maybe we would’ve been better than Junko, instead of relying on her influence… Maybe we’d be separated entirely from her.” He trails off and his laughs fall to chuckles as tears drench the sheets surrounding his head. In the near silence that followed, they hear footsteps in the hallway outside the room.

 

“I can hear them in here!” Shouts a voice, Byakuya recognizes it as that of Nagito Komaeda, and wipes Makoto’s tears.

  
“Looks like you’ll have that chance,” He mumbled and the three turn to watch the door expectantly.


	3. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was reality anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion that took me years to finish. In my defense, I rewrote this nearly twenty times. It was going to be a lot longer too, so trust me, I am aware the end is a bit rushed, but it was 13 pages as is. I hope you enjoy this and the series! I may go back and redo it some day, but it was fun while it lasted!! Thanks to everyone who read it!!!

Hope and despair and hope and despairandhopeanddespairandhopeand _ despairandhopeanddespair- _

 

It was all the same, two sides of the same coin. They had the same effect on people if you really thought about it: it picked and prodded at people’s deepest insecurities to provoke a strong emotion, a mass reaction. To say that it’d be easy for hope to fall to despair, and despair then broken by hope was an understatement. To say that one would eventually beat the other, that was their mistake. Their downfall had been putting blind faith in one, instead of accepting both as they were. 

 

Makoto stood in the center of the courtroom. He felt eyes on him, whispers of staggering breath leaving his companions, yet he stood firm. His hands were shaking, his throat was dry, but he chose to not believe. “I will never give into despair! So long as I’m here, we will never be defeated by you! By despair! Hope will always win, and I’m proof of that!”

 

His words ring through the courtroom, his friends find strength in the words. Junko Enoshima, the blonde woman with a smile dripping in sadism, hears nothing but hollow promises.

 

“Oh? Are you sure about it?” She’s practically drooling as she speaks to him, her grin spreading from ear to ear. “What would you do if I told you that you, Makoto Naegi, the so called Ultimate Hope, were the original Ultimate Despair? You were the one to manipulate and cheat your beloved friends out of their futures, and end the world. Isn’t it absolutely despair inducing~? Oh my, my mouth is just watering~!” She licks her lips, her calculated eyes- if Makoto could call them that, she was nothing more than a program, an AI, in front of him- boring into him.

 

“I- I would never fall to despair!” He exclaims yet again, but his hands are twitching, his heart is racing, he can’t catch his breath. He has to deny it, has to deny every word she uttered, because if he doesn’t than he-

 

He-

 

_ He was responsible for the despair of the world. _

 

And suddenly, Enoshima’s expression falls. Darkens. She leans back and sighs, crossing her arms. “You know, for someone who’s accomplished so much, I’d been expecting you to accept your title. But this, this is just boring,” She slumps forwards, her strawberry blonde hair falling in front of her face where her expression is more sullen now. “I can prove it, ya’ know? But I doubt you’d even listen.”

 

“How could you possibly prove it?” Byakuya cuts through. Makoto has never felt more relieved, finding it harder and harder to speak the longer the seconds passed.

 

Once again the Ultimate Despair brightens, and the luckster feels himself getting whiplash from her erratic mood swings. “I was expecting you to ask! But, I sadly can’t answer your question until my favorite people arrive~” She gives a sigh, a smile curling its way onto her face. “The heros of the story are almost here! My senpais, my knights in shining white armor,” She continues, her grin spreading and making the students in the courtroom even more anxious. “Oh, I just hate them.”

 

“That’s disappointing,” Came a voice and the entire courtroom seems to spin, turn to look at where the foreign voice had come from. There stood a boy with stark white hair and a crooked grin. Beside him walked a girl with short pink hair, and a taller brunet. “After all the time we’d spent together, I was really hoping we’d grow on you!” He says in a cheerful voice, a voice Makoto recognize and doesn’t know why. The faces strike him with even more familiarity, but he can’t recall just where he’d seen them. He was grateful to Kyouko, who'd recognized them right away.

 

“You… You're the survivors the School Life of Mutual Killing, aren't you?” She murmured, her hands clenching into fists. Her keen eyes glared daggers into the kids as they walked across the courtroom, taking the podiums of the deceased. Makoto couldn't speak, simply watching as they took the places once occupied by Sakura, Celeste, and Kiyotaka. It made him feel sick, watching these strangers stand where they wouldn't dare to travel. “What are you doing here? More importantly,how could you get here?” Her voice rings cold and confident, but Makoto could hear the tension, practically feel the way she radiated uncertainty. She didn't want to believe it either, that brought him even more uncertainty. She always had an answer or at least an idea, she always held information. If she couldn't be sure, then what was he doing?!

 

Silence is their immediately answer, glances shifting from the new arrivals as Enoshima squeals. “It's been so long! Still as cool as ever~!” The blonde said with a melodic lilt to her voice. They paid no attention to her, but she didn't seem to mind.

 

“If I may,” The girl with the pink hair began, her face set in soft concern. “We’re here to rescue you. We came as soon as we could, but…” She glanced away, the concern falling to a look of guilt. “We were unable to enter the program until just now. It took the best of our concentrations, with all the effort from our associates, and even then it took us too long.”

 

_ Enter the program…? _

 

“You… You aren't saying that…” Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer who'd seemed to lose her voice until now, began. However, she was cut off by the white haired male, who gave a sigh almost similar to Enoshima’s. It sent a shiver through Makoto and his stomach churned.

 

“For Ultimates, you really are slow. I'd expected more of you, even after you proved yourselves so talented.” He speaks as if he's bored, as if he's disappointed, and Makoto can't bring himself to  _ understand anything _ so he just keeps denying. Deny and deny and deny. “Ultimate Detective, care to tell me just what you've concluded from your investigations?”

 

Her eyes widen, she hadn't bothered to hide her shock, but she quickly turns her face away. Makoto’s heart stops; She's showing such fear, such apprehension, he finds his pillar of strength withering. “My…” She takes a moment to collect herself, inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling. Her mask was back, her determination set deep in her violet eyes. Makoto wanted to feel grateful, stable, seeing her calm helped lower any anxiety he'd normally been feeling. But this was as false as false came. Even he could see through her façade, and his anxiety tripled. “My investigation has lead me to believe that what they are saying is true. This is in fact a simulation, their presence proves it.”

 

The courtroom was quiet, even Enoshima let the information sink in. The silence rang loud and thorough, you could hear Makoto's heart drop in the emptiness. “So then it's all true…”

 

“Oh, I knew I could count on you, Nagito Senpai~!” The despair cheered, her eyes alight with a dark, sadistic kind of joy. Nagito shuddered and scowled, shaking his head. However, Junko hadn't been finished. “I knew that you three would be the ones to awaken the despairs! Oh, I'm so proud of you guys! How far you've come! Everyone, please give a round of applause for our real protagonists and their ability to awaken the true antagonists!”

 

“Junko, stop it,” The brunet finally spoke, his voice cutting sharp and clear through her joyous cries. She deflates but Makoto has learned that she isn't actually upset.

 

“I haven't seen you guys in so long and this is how you treat me? Oh, I'm so hurt! And you were even my favorite, Hajime!”

 

He rolls his eyes, his frustration evident on his face and Makoto feels uncomfortable at the mention of his name. Nagito, Hajime… Something about those names just struck him, and he knew full well it hadn't been from their earlier investigation. “Just ignore her, she only wants to confuse you more.” Hajime says, his hands planting on the podium. “I'm Hajime Hinata, and like Kyouko said, my friends and I are survivors of the School Life of Mutual Killing.” Makoto feels ready to vomit as the pieces come together, but he has to force his thoughts can stop. He won't believe it till it comes from their mouths. “We survived Junko's grueling class trials years ago-”

 

_ Years… _

 

“-And when we finally beat her at her own game, we were released to the true despair of the world. The despair… That you set forward.” His voice rings clear and confident. No one says a word, no one dares to speak after what they heard. Because maybe it's not true, maybe if they wait long enough someone will tell them it's false, maybe-

 

“The masterminds behind that were none other than you three…” His voice trails off, maybe he doesn't want to recognize it. “Makoto Naegi, Kyouko Kirigiri, and Byakuya Togami… You three were responsible for the majority of the damage…” He explains slowly, carefully, as if every word would shatter them. And it did, for Makoto at least.

 

No longer was it a threat of not being able to breathe, he couldn't catch his breath if he'd wanted to. No longer was it a fear of nausea, he was swallowing down bile as they spoke. No longer did he fret looking at the woman ahead of him, his vision was blurring and swirling her beyond recognition.

 

No longer would he be under the delusion that he was the Ultimate Hope, with the burning confirmation that he, in fact, had destroyed hope himself.

 

It was only hours ago he'd been called hope, only days ago when he inspired everyone to feel it, only weeks ago when he felt the need to secure it. He'd felt it so deeply, so truly, yet it'd all been a simulation… His hope had never been real, never mattered.

 

“Awe, Mako, you look like you're remembering how useless you really are!” Junko cooed to him from across the courtroom, and he feels the need to blink back tears even if there aren’t any. “Ya’ know, I remember a long long time ago when you were telling me how worried you were that even if you attended Hope's Peak Academy, you'd never matter.” Her smile curls in a devious way. “And I'd promised you that if you let me, I could make sure the world remembered you. And I did, I did and look at you now! You're trying to forget everything you worked so hard for! The way you betrayed me! Oh, I could never forget that despair.” She's licking her lips and Makoto can't believe he's listening  _ why is he still listening why does it matter none of what she's saying is true, it's impossible all of it was impossible he had to deny he couldn't believe any of it he- _

 

“I don't know what happened to make you all despair… All I know is that you've all fallen, either from Makoto or Junko but you fell. And that's why you're here,” Says Hajime and the luckster’s body is going numb, but he somehow stays upright just so he can listen  _ just so he can deny _ . “This program, the Neo World Program, was designed to help people through emotional traumas. By erasing your past memories and giving you ones of hope, we wanted to give you a chance at a future… But something went wrong, something happened and a virus-” He pauses and glares at Junko, who shrugs with a casual grin. “-infected the program. I don't know how it got in here, but it did… And the only way out is to return back to your despair filled bodies… Without… Without your memories…” He looks down as if in apology when the pink haired one continues.

 

“I don't believe it should be a problem, though,” She says and a warm smile crosses her features. Makoto feels numb to the way she tries to offer sincerity. “It was you guys who called us, and you guys who asked for help. You wanted change… At least I think you had. But even if, with how you are now, you know you want a better future. And… You can have that. You can create any future, just like you did here.” Somewhere, Junko is scoffing but Makoto feels something resonate with him. The numbness that he feels pricking at his fingers, dulling his thoughts, and blurring his vision slowly dissipates. He's gripping his fists again, trying to blink as the world continues to move around him.

 

“Oh Chiaki, that's a lot of talk for some lousy gamer. You know, they were lying to you when they said they wanted help, right? They were just out of options, so they did the only thing to bring me back. Resurrecting me through the friends they killed,” Enoshima sighs with a condescending smirk, but the supposed gamer looks unphased.

 

“I… I guessed that might have been a possibility. That's why I'm not upset. If we can get them out of here without you, then I think we can bring them back. They must've been feeling something if they needed you back to guide them,” Chiaki says firmly, despite how uncertain the words meanings may be.

 

Makoto feels hit with another wave of guilt, of pressure, of  _ despair _ and the numbness threatens to take him over again. Of course it'd been his fault. Of course he'd been the one to cause the killings. Of course, that's the only way to end this tragic story. This time, he turns to vomit and he is just barely able to hear Junko’s wicked laughter echoing through the courtroom. He’s stopped listening to his friends-  _ were they his friends? _ \- and stopped listening to the survivors; All he can hear is the echoing of Junko’s words and the bullets of despair they bring with. This is what she’d wanted all along, to break him, let him fall to despair. He wondered if his friends had already fallen, if it was worth any of the effort he’d been giving to cling to hope. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Hope would be shattered by despair, wouldn’t it? If what they’d said was true, it wouldn’t matter what he did. He would still be despair, he would always be despair, all his hope had been an illusion. They aren’t his words, they’re her’s, but he keeps listening. He can’t stop repeating them, over and over and over and he can’t remember her telling him this but it’s her voice. 

 

“Makoto~” Called the blonde and at the sound of her voice, he lifted his head. He couldn’t  _ understand _ and he was terrified and for some reason, for some awful reason he felt something strike him when he listened to Junko. Something bigger than when he’d listened to Chiaki. Perhaps he did have more despair than hope inside of him. “Oh Makoto, that look of despair you have is absolutely delectable! Awe, you look like a kicked puppy!” She’s laughing at him, and he finds something funny. He finds himself laughing too, despite anything in him saying that none of this was funny, he should be shaking and fearing for his life. But he keeps laughing, his hands clutching his sides and his tears falling freely. He doesn’t know what it is, but dammit it’s so funny.

 

All too soon, Junko stops laughing. Her expression twists, pure joy morphs into self satisfaction. She smirks like she’s caught her prey, and she almost has. He’s so close, he’s on the grasp of understanding just everything they’ve been saying. Just a little further, just keep talking and she’ll awaken the potential hidden deep in him. Underneath false hope implanted with a virtual world by some kids who were barely able to grasp what the word truly represented.

 

“Ah, she might be right,” He says, and his friends are staring at him as if he’s lost his mind. Maybe he has,  _ or maybe he found it? _ “I mean, she  _ is right _ !” There are gasps coming from students beside him, but he can’t seem to find anything in him to care about anything but what the blonde was telling him. Assuring him, actually. “She was right about me… I’m a talentless nobody, it was foolish of me to call myself the Ultimate hope,” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and his laughter has stopped. Part of him feels that it’s even funnier than before, but he isn’t laughing anymore. The part of him that’s still himself,  _ is it really himself? _ , is shattering. It hurts, he hurts more than he’s hurt before. It doesn’t hurt when he laughs, why fight it? Why fight to accept what he can’t change? “I… I don’t know anything about what they are saying, it all seems unreal… B-but… But if what everyone’s been saying is true… Isn’t our only hope… To side with despair?” The despair found something funny about what he’d said because she began laughing again, but everyone around them is silent. Or maybe it’s because he’s long since tuned them out. He isn’t sure whether to continue, whether the part of him that’s trying to rationalize everything can hold out any longer. He swallows hard, swallowing the bitter taste of words unspoken, swallowing the laughter that threatens to slip from his tongue because  _ he was never hope, he never mattered, he was just some chump caught in a game by traumatized kids only a year older and it was just so funny _ \- “I mean, if… If we don’t accept what we are… Then we’re just avoiding the inevitable…” What happened to the voice telling him to deny it? “We’re gonna be returned to our despair filled bodies… Any hope we had crushed… Isn’t it better to hope for despair, then?”

 

Now he tunes in the others, looks around the courtroom, and everyone looks so sullen.  _ It’s so funny, why aren’t they laughing? Can’t they find the humor in being put through such a big rouse like that? _ His eyes go to Aoi first, but she won’t look up from her feet. Tears are falling from her cheeks and coloring the floor with her pain. Next, he looks to Yasuhiro, but he stares blankly ahead of him. Makoto can practically hear his thoughts, hear the chanting of denial that his words must’ve disrupted. Touko is looking to Byakuya for strength, because she can’t make up her mind without him. Next, his eyes land on Byakuya, and he isn’t disappointed. The look of absolute despair that fills his face, the way his eyes stare at the portraits of the fallen, the twitch of his lips as they threaten to curl into a smirk.  _ Acceptance _ . Kyouko was just as despair filled, even behind her mask Makoto could feel it. So could Junko.

 

“What’s this? Is my trio back? All thanks to Makoto?” She sounds so excited and is part of Makoto happy that she’s pleased? He’s certain that part of him is more than delighted, but the other half is screaming disgust. How could he say this, how could accept praise from her, how could he even think for a moment he could stop fighting?

 

“You’ve got that wrong!” Hajime shouts and suddenly everyone’s eyes are on him. The brunet’s thoughts are silenced, his heart stops racing, and he’s left blank as he waits to hear what he has to say. His attention turns from Junko to Makoto, his eyes narrowing. The luckster is torn, wanting to shrink back but wanting to hold his ground and prove that yes, he’s right, yes he’s worthless, yes  _ he’s valid for feeling despair _ . “Are you just going to let her win? Are you going to let her control you on the mistakes you’ve made in the past?” Makoto feels his hands tremble and the despair in him is screaming, he knows it is because it’s Junko’s voice but he can’t make out a word it’s saying. All he can hear is Hajime, the way his voice strikes him in- it’s the same feeling he got from Chiaki. It’s warm and light but barely there. It’s so far away but it’s persistent, ringing longer than Junko’s. He doesn’t know what to listen to, he’s torn _ torn and it keeps him from understanding anything.  _ “What happened in the past shouldn’t dictate you now. That’s why you’re here, that’s what this simulation represents! Makoto, what you experienced here was just as real as anything out there! The scenery may be virtual, but everyone you’ve spoken to, every memory you made is real. These friends are real!” He is shouting and Makoto flinches back, especially so when he hears the displeased noises Junko is making. The part of him that narrates in her voice screams to him that he should be silencing Hajime, that everything he says is a lie. “If you can experience this, you can find it again. You still have that hope in you, nothing can take that away! It was in you when you called us, it was in you when you were in Hope’s Peak, and it’ll be there when you wake up!” He takes a deep breath and Makoto is  _ torn torn torn torn _ and he can’t  _ understand _ the situation or what he’s feeling but he wants to try after this. But he can’t, he won’t talk because despair has his voice clamped.

 

“Boring,” Junko sighs, Makoto wants to look at her and apologize, but he can’t stop looking at Hajime. He can’t decide what he wants, what he will do because he’s filled with so much. “You can’t be serious right? Are you actually gonna listen to that wishful thinking?”   
  


_ Yes! _

 

_ No.. _

 

_ Yes…? _

 

_ No…! _

 

“I don’t know! Can’t you just, please just,  _ stop talking all of you _ !” Makoto screams his head is torn, his body is torn, he doesn’t know his past nor his future, he can’t understand his present, and he just wants silence. And that’s what he gets, for a moment. Silence, a silence where he is left panting and gripping his hair, his tears are falling down his face but he can’t care because he can’t see or hear or feel.

 

“Makoto…” The first thing Kyouko has said since Nagito had addressed her. It’s soft and he pauses because this is the only reason he can hear.

  
  
  


\---

 

She understands, she understands every word because they’ve been echoed through her thoughts first. She’s guessed that possibly, it would happen, that their current outcome was just one in several realities. So maybe she wasn’t as shocked, but she could feel the despair. The crushing feeling in her chest, as if the world had fallen atop her, knocks the air from her lungs. What hurts her more, maybe, is when Makoto confirms it. When he tells them that despair is better. Because if their hope,  _ her hope _ , can say despair is better, than who is she to question? All she’s ever known is objectivity, looking at the world as if it were a blank slate. She couldn’t say she’d ever felt a particular pull in either direction until she’d met Makoto. He convinced her of the hope in the world, and suddenly there was more light than her shadows. That didn’t mean she’d forgotten about despair, it tugged at her and constantly kept her on edge.

 

Her objectivity was their blessing.

 

Hearing Junko speak of absolute despair was dizzying. Her head clouded with what she began implying, but it couldn’t stop her from wanting to think through it. Because she’d already thought through it, she’d already been through the grieving process, though she often remembered she didn’t grieve over these situations. A good detective would never be so attached as to grieve over the fallen. Regardless of how muddled her thoughts felt, she continued to try and look at it objectively, to try and see both the hope and despair in the words being flung across the room. She felt that for visual representation, Hinata wasn’t an opposite of Junko. Rather, he admit that there would be despair in their future, but it was their’s to shape and overcome. He was a happy medium between dark and light. If she had to, she would say he was a visual of future.

 

He made her mind reel to a halt. Even if he’d been addressing Makoto, his words struck her. Because he was right. He had spoken something she was too flustered to remember. He preached the principle she’d lived her life by. That the past would never be the default future. That what happened, what they would do, they could control. They were in charge of their future.

 

A quick glance to the Ultimate Hope that stood in the center of the courtroom told her that he, as well, had forgotten. Hearing his voice tear through the crumbling simulation proved that he was trying, even if he was confused, even if he was hurting, he was  _ trying to understand. _ That's why she reached out to him, because there was still something to reach out to.

 

“Makoto…” She says softly and it's all that echoes in the courtroom. Of course it grabs his attention, and his eyes are pleading with her. Begging her to be his voice of reason. Begging for her to somehow save him from the uncertainty he's drowning in. She's seen that look before, when he didn't know where to go next in the trial. But this is so different. She isn't sure if she can be reason if she's just barely grasping onto the hope Hajime had given them, but she will try. If she doesn't, who will? The only other person to rely on was Byakuya, and he hadn't moved since the revelation. 

 

She takes a deep breath and his eyes are still pinned to her. “Makoto, what are you thinking right now?” She speaks calmly and watches as he stills, looking from her to the ground.

 

“I… I don’t know. Part of me is saying one thing and another saying the opposite, and they’re all in different voices. They aren’t even mine…” He murmurs and a tremor runs through him. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to think. I… I want to hope, but it all seems a little pointless, doesn’t it? But I can’t accept that it’s pointless… But I can’t accept that there’s still a chance…! Kyouko, I don’t know what to think anymore…” He lowers his head, bringing his hands to his face. “I want someone to tell me what to believe but… Now that they have, it’s too much. I can’t understand either of them.”

 

She’s speechless for a moment, but she can just imagine the grin Junko must be sporting. He really did look hopeless, she just had to reach for him and he might just go willingly. She had to try harder to advocate Hajime’s words in a way she can reach Makoto.

 

“Makoto, I didn’t ask what they were saying because I can hear it. What is it that  _ you _ think? Aside from what they told you to think, do, say. Aside from what they say is true or false, the inevitable future or past. What do you think, in this situation of hope versus despair? What does your heart say?” She says slowly, her word choice deliberate.

 

Makoto remains silent; he won’t say anything and it’s scaring her. Was it really too late? She glances around the room, looking for support from her crestfallen classmates. Both Yasuhiro and Aoi are tuning her out. Touko is in a similar state, though her eyes are fluttering from Makoto to the detective herself. She pauses; Maybe Byakuya was in a better state-?

 

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks.” Speak of the devil. “It’s all wishful thinking at this point. We know what’s true, and that’s that we are criminals, world renowned terrorists. When we wake up, we go back to that. Why does what he feel matter when we can’t escape what we are? Kyouko, why are you wasting our time?” Byakuya challenges and somehow, she finds herself shocked she had found opposition. “Let’s get this over with. Vote for Enoshima already.”

 

Makoto still doesn’t say anything, still doesn’t look up from his shoes, still can’t make a stand. Why does Kyouko have to do this? She’s barely certain of herself, she can’t be the stronghold of the class.

 

Damnit, she’ll try at least. 

 

“Byakuya, you talk as if you’re letting Enoshima control your future,” She shoots back, narrowing her eyes. “I thought you were the heir of the Togami corporation. But letting some high school girl who couldn’t even save herself decide your life for you,” She pauses, lets out a sigh that she knew would enrage the blond before continuing. “It’s pathetic to think you thought so highly of yourself when you can’t even make up your own mind.” She shrugged, then turning to Makoto though she was still addressing him. “At least Makoto can try to fight it; Maybe that’s why I asked him what he felt.”

 

She doesn't need to look at him to hear he's beginning to bubble with anger. Good, she'd provoked something beyond despair. She could work with that.

 

“Anyways, Makoto-”

 

“Don't just ignore me after that! You wanted to argue a point, so we are arguing. Are you happy?” She waited to turn, even feeling his eyes pierce her. “Damnit Kyouko, what was all this for?”

 

“As I was saying-” She tries again to ignore him, infuriating him further, to where he slams his hands on the podium as if to demand her attention. It worked, of course; He was playing right into her plans.

 

“Kyouko, you can’t just ignore me after trying so desperately to upset me! What is it you want?!” He demands of her, and she offers a coy smile, one her classmates are well adjusted to.

 

“You’ve already given me what I wanted. You proved that you can still feel something other than despair, congratulations. You have yet to lose to Junko, meaning you were wrong and all of this wasn’t pointless.” She says it as if it were obvious, as if since she’d known, so should the rest of them. Makoto finally gives a reaction: A glimmer of light- what Kyouko can assume is a fighting spark of hope- shines in his dulling hazel eyes as he watches the conflict. Byakuya himself is taken back, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

 

“So you tricked me?” He murmurs, unable to believe that had been the case. She simply smiles and nods.

 

“I’ve beaten you at your game, and all you can say is that?” She prods, watching as he shakes off the look of shock to a calculated glare. “Of course, you can always claim that it’d been a test of will. I won’t argue you.” He gives an indignant huff, but for a brief moment he gives Kyouko a look of relief, and she knows she’s gotten one of her powerful allies back. “Now, regardless of what had happened, you should agree that Makoto is in the wrong now. If you can have hope in this situation, clearly anyone can.”

 

He mulls over what she says, as if still trying to fight off the overwhelming feeling of despair before sighing. “Of course, you’re right. However, we can’t bring him back like you’d just done,” The blond says simply, shaking his head.

 

Junko, who’d peacefully been watching this, began to grin in the most devilish of ways. “Makoto, do you hear how they talk about you as if you weren’t there? It’s so hopeless, isn’t it? That they would ever see you as a friend, that you would ever matter to them. You’re just a background character that they’re trying to use to their advantage.” She pauses, running her tongue across her lips. “How absolutely enticing, what do you say you feel right now?”

 

Kyouko is quick to try and take back the brunet’s attention, turning to face him once more. “She’s feeding you lies. You’ve spent weeks with us, here. Trust us, the people you know, when we say that you matter to us. If I hadn’t cared, I wouldn’t be trying right now to talk to you,” She almost pleads with him, but manages to keep her tone even. He turns back to face her, his face falling into one of desperation.

  
“Kyouko, I can’t understand any of this,” He says in a low tone, keeping his voice from quivering. “I feel so helpless… No matter what I choose, someone will be hurt. I have everyone’s hopes riding on me and I don’t know what to do,” He admit and covers his face. “Choose for me, you’ve always been the one to guide me, so what should I do?”

 

The detective frowns and wants to reach out to him, but knows to keep her distance. “I can’t do that for you. The only way to truly defeat despair is to remember who you are. The Makoto we got to know over our time here, that’s the real Makoto. Whatever person she’s talking about, he’s gone with our past. You can’t let her confuse you and scare you away from being who you know you are,” She pauses for a moment to make sure her words have the right impact before continuing in a softer voice. “You’re the Ultimate Hope. Once you remember that, you will understand what to do… It’s out of my hands, then.”

 

His eyes widen and he staggers back as if her words had had a physical impact. He doesn’t say anything, and the courtroom is silent for the most part. Junko is murmuring about “the final battle between hope and despair” but it doesn’t seem like anyone is truly listening to her.

 

The rest of their classmates seem to be in a similar state, even if her words hadn’t been directed to them personally, they had the same effect. They were questioning, which was much better than sitting and wallowing in despair. If she was able to pull them out of the trance Junko had set them in, they could decide for themselves. And although it was just one of many possibilities, she knew they would make the right choice. That’d been what Makoto had taught her.

 

\---

 

Waking up hurt much more than falling asleep had, Byakuya decided as he tried to stretch out his aching limbs. His head throbbed and swirled with two sets of memories, neither of which he felt he could identify with. One set left him feeling disgusted, not wanting to touch anything around him with a bitter taste on his tongue. The other left him feeling empty, with broken promises and false hope lighting up his mind like the friendly island had his eyes.

 

The real island looked nothing a cheerful. He'd file a complaint with the people who'd created the program, but one of the sets of memories assured him that they were no longer on this planet. Part of him, the part that felt disgust to everything around him, agreed that death was a proper response to the disappointment that coursed through him. As a whole, he couldn't say what he felt beyond numb. Detached. Empty.

 

Only six of them woke up, twelve sets of memories restored, eighteen different personalities to sort through. Most of them resigned to the numbness that shook them. It was hard to accept the true gravity of the situation, all the devastation they were responsible for was unimaginable, really.

 

He could feel both proud and disgusted towards himself when he saw the ruins. But mostly, he felt numb. It felt as if it'd been caused by someone else, not him. 

 

It was almost surreal how detached he felt from his surroundings. The other survivors were all that way to a similar extent, except for Makoto. Makoto, who awoke and fought through the splitting headache of two personalities converging on one, who rushed to the outside to fall to tears when he was met with the reality of the situation, who even after refused to let himself fall to the indifference of denial and instead took on the burden of destruction they'd all caused. He remained as upbeat as he could, but there were nights when he'd stumble to the blond’s cottage in tears. He'd walk right in- his “true” memories assured him that they'd had a close enough relationship before that for this to be allowed- and sit on his bed. The heir would sit up, and upon instinct he would wrap the other in a tight hug. He wasn’t able to tell which set of memories drove this response, but he didn't have the stamina to sort through his muddled mind. Instead, he would rub his back and wait for the brunet to spill.

 

“I can't fix this.”

 

“You've never said can't before.”

 

“Byakuya, I'm  _ serious _ ! I can't fix all this! I don't know what I'm supposed to do!”

 

Loud sobbing always followed this, like he'd just needed to let it out. The blond often wondered why he went to him, surely someone else would be better to listen. But instead, he would respond.

 

“So, you're just going to give in? All those words of encouragement, all those months of effort: You're saying they're useless now?”

 

“Well no, but-”

 

“Then what are you saying, Makoto?”

 

“It's just… It's so hard and it’ll never go back to normal anyways…” He hiccups after this, trying to get this out, and presses his face to the blond's nightshirt. 

 

“Who said that it’ll never be normal?” He asks and the brunet shrugs.

 

“It's just too much…” He mutters and slumps against him.

 

“It's a good thing you aren't alone,” Byakuya says. “Otherwise it would be impossible.”

 

He nods again, sniffling. He doesn't say anything this time, letting Byakuya trace patterns onto his back.

 

“I take it you're staying the night again?”

 

“Please…”

 

He doesn't argue, let’s the other cuddle uncomfortably close and sleep in his bed. The next morning he's back to his cheerful self, as if denying hed ever felt a hint of sadness. Byakuya assumes that everyone copes differently, so he doesn't say much but he and Kyouko both worry.

  
Nothing is the same, nothing can go back to a normal when they didn't have a normal to refer to. They would never hold hands and sing kumbaya, nor would they be able to see themselves as the shining ultimates they used to be. They were criminals, crooks, outlaws, and terrorists. They brought the world to it’s knees through sheer force of will. It was impressive but it haunted their every step. They would never be the same, nor would the world, but it was through the promise that they would someday feel light again with hope that they kept trying. They were never despair, and maybe they'd never taste a pure hope again, but maybe that's what they were destined to live.


	4. In another life, perhaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe in a different time, a different life perhaps, things could have been different. But this was the here and now, she knew what she wanted and how to get it.
> 
> Alternate ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A month back it was suggested that I write an alternate ending to this wonderful, 3 parter story that never seemed to want to end. And man, do I live for Despair Naegi, so I immediately took on the challenge. Now here we sit, over a month later, with the final piece to those overly complex AU. I hope it lives up to expectations. Please comment with any questions or feedback, I love hearing what everyone thinks!!!

Hope and despair and hope and despair and hope and-

How boring, having seen this already. Any person, regardless of their intellect and talent-or lack thereof- was plainly aware of the truth that was the simultaneous existence of hope and despair. That the two fed each other, and used different emotions to provoke same reactions. To run through that again felt even more tedious than watching the courtroom sit in a stalemate.

Junko Enoshima, or what was left of her memory and personality downloaded into an uncomfortable AI, had predicted nothing less than a conflicted antagonist being rallied by both sides. It bored her, it truly did, to where she almost wondered if letting them feed the boy false hopes and promises would play out to be more entertaining than manipulating the outcome to her desired ending. Maybe in another life she would have let fate play through it's cruel games, let Makoto decide on his own whether he was truly hope or truly despair, but not today. As enticing as it sounded, she'd rather see the uncertainty he would further bring once brought back into despair. What could she say? She was a biased woman, she had an agenda that she would stick to and she wasn't ashamed of that.

She let out a sigh that seemed to drag into a pained moan. This successfully drew in the attention of the courtroom, that being everyone but Makoto. Her calculating eyes- were they allowed to be considered eyes still?- scanned her audience as she took in what she could. She could see Kyouko ready to start some sort of justification speech, to encourage Makoto that he wasn't in the wrong and that he could still pull them out of this. How pathetically see-through the detective was. She'd have to cut her off before she could start.

“You know, Makoto,” Because addressing your target personally always made your argument more persuasive. “I was hoping you'd have learned your lesson before. That by obeying others, you'll only end up unhappy. That's why you came to me, isn't it?” She offered a grin, cheerful as always with the hint of dripping sadism. He still wouldn't look up, she knew from experience his head must be spinning. “You ended up in this simulation because you lived for me, and when I died you were willing to do anything to bring me back.” She pauses, looking around once more and letting her words sink in. “You were so desperate to have someone to show you the way that you willingly erased anything that made you a memorable person on the off chance that you'd bring me back to guide you. Now ask yourself, is that really any way to live?”

She watched the way Makoto bites back something he wanted to say, his head lowers as if in shame, and finally he shakes his already shaggy hair in a gesture of no. The submissive behavior is no surprise to the despair, but she wants something a tad more energetic to get what she wants. So she prods and antagonizes. “What was that? No one will treat you like a person and let you have your own beliefs if you keep acting like a kicked puppy. Stand up for yourself and show them that you really can think on your own. Now answer my question.”

This time he mutters his no, but doesn't glance up at her. She'll take this one, and moves forward with her argument. “Now let's think about this reasonably. I'll set aside all platitudes and false hope, all that bullshit everyone has been spewing for the past hour now, and lay out the facts. As a person, you deserve honesty, don't you? Not someone shoving their warped beliefs down your throat.” She pauses again, lets her words sink again, before she continues. “Look at what hope has gotten you versus what despair has. Your friends are all dead, and all you could do was sit here and try to comfort everyone with false promises and ideals. ‘We can overcome this, we’re all friends here, no one would hurt anyone.’ You let yourself believe in this stupid friendship and where did it get you? Absolutely nowhere. You were almost killed countless times, betrayed and accused even more, and you did nothing of meaning in the process. Hope brought you nothing but a false sense of motivation.”

He finally looks up at her, his hazel eyes reflecting vacantly and his face a sickly pale. She continues, knowing that if she doesn't, one of her costars will interrupt her and try to take him in his vulnerability. “You may not remember, which truly is a shame in itself, but you did so much when you were despair. You finally seemed to realize your value as a person and used that talent of yours to your advantage. And I don't mean that fake luck everyone has been trying to label you with. I, along with the old Hope’s Peak Academy headmaster and recruiter saw much more in you. You, my dear Makoto, are able to influence people beyond anything I've see. You had Byakuya and Kyouko following your every word. You had masses of people bowing at your feet, hoping to hear just the slightest bit of your charming, if inept, wisdom. You had the world in your palms by the time I'd been executed. You had accomplished everything you'd set out to do, you’d beaten me at my own game, yet you only stopped when you'd won. There were no more worlds for you to conquer, so you fell back to your old ways of relying on everyone else to guide you. But without me, there was no one on your level to show you what you wanted to see. So you set this in place, to bring me back, to give you a reason to continue being despair.”

She stands in silence once she'd finished, not in the regards that she hadn't more to say but letting everything she'd just announced be processed. She wasn't wrong in any regard, being despair had given Makoto more of a reason to live than being hope had. No matter the side they were on, no one could argue with her word. What she said was law. So she stopped looking at the gaping bystanders and focused her attention solely on the luckster.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him try to understand all she'd said. It was like watching glass shatter, in the most exciting ways. Piece by piece began to fall away until nothing stood, ready to be rebuilt however Junko wanted him. Again, she'd hoped he'd be able to make revelations on his own, fall to despair through his own means, but she would take what she could. “Will you throw away everything you accomplished? All for the idea of hope?” She twirled her blonde hair in mock boredom, knowing her audience would watch her every move as if they were hypnotized. “You have nothing to gain. If you side with them, you'll awaken to a world that worships a different image of you, and you'll spend the rest of your life despairing when no one is willing to listen to your tired hope spiels.” She grinned deviously, more for show than anything. “In fact, the thought is making my mouth water. Such a hopeless future for you, isn't it just incredible?” He winces away and she drops the act to simply grin, knowing her words had their desired effect.

“But, by the looks of it, Mako-chan is scared of this future, isn't he? Scared of being so devoid of hope that even if he tried to make the correct decision, he still has an inescapable fate of despair.” She pulls a warm smile onto her face, her gaze directed at only Makoto. Of course, she was aware of those around her, of the slack-jawed idiots that could do nothing but stare in shock at her monologue. She just, well, she bluntly didn't care about them in the slightest. “But imagine the world you'll return to if you side with me. You'll be welcomed back as a hero! You are, in fact, the sole savior of humanity. You'll return to be treated as such. Imagine the fame and glory, people calling your name and singing your praise. Makoto, oh Makoto thank you, you've saved me from my boring life! Oh Makoto, we-”

“That's enough, Junko!” Hajime, who'd been standing on the sidelines in silence for quite some time, finally cried out. “You're filling his head with nonsense! Nobody listen to her!”

Junko’s face fell instantly, her expression cold and her glare sharper than knives. “I'm sorry, I don't recall asking a talentless nobody for his shit opinion. Please, Hajime, do what you do best and stand there doing nothing at all. If you're upset that you're losing him, remember you lost the moment you challenged me. No, you were born a loser, anything you try to accomplish will fail, and you'll die out with that damned future foundation the moment my precious Mako-chan stops listening to you.” Her voice was steely, spitting the venom she tried to contain with her anger. She watched in further irritation as his face fell, looking away to the ground as he tried to regain some of his senses. But he was already broken, even before Junko had to point out his flaws, and all that was left for him to do was to out of the argument. And it looked like his companions were as well as they rushed to his side to reassure him.

She took a moment to regain her composure, pulling any traces of venom and anger from her clouded expression to smile warmly once more at Makoto. She watched insecurity flood her target, his unsure eyes latching to her like she were his lifeline. In another life, Junko is certain that this role would belong to Kyouko, or possibly even Byakuya. But it doesn't and she is his sole savior, once again. “So, Makoto, what will it be? Will you waste your life away battling your own shadow, or will you reach the potential I know you're capable of and come back to me?”

He steps out from the podium and takes one unsure step, then another, and it becomes clear to everyone in the courtroom that he intends to walk towards the one he's choosing. He sways like he's dizzy, and he keeps his eyes on his feet. Junko knows the outcome, she always always always knows the outcome, but she says nothing. The survivors trio watch his steps. They know the outcome, they've watched it happen time and time again, but they swallow back words and simply watch. His friends, his beloved friends that have said nothing and just watched him suffer, they too stand in silence. An uncertain silence, of course. Perhaps Kyouko and Byakuya have an inkling of a suspicion of what their outcome will be, but they're blinded with shock and cannot conclude anything. It's as if the entire world has come to a stop, waiting on Makoto’s every move to continue to spin. How the world ought to be. How the world will be, once more.

The brunet falls to his knees in front of Junko, or rather, her memories and personality shoved into an uncomfortable AI, and presses his head to where her feet would be, had she had any.

“Please Junko, I want you.”

 

\---

 

The world is waiting at his fingertips when he awakens. It's rejuvenating, it's just what he'd needed. He watches in a morbid delight from his castle that overlooks the plagues of the city, masses upon masses of people cheer for his return and the chaos he's so enthusiastic to promote. It's a sickening twist in his stomach when he realizes he's not exactly delighted with the turn of events. However, it's just as sickening to know he doesn't care that his dead friends are walking corpses with the brain of the woman he once worshipped. It's absolutely disgusting that he's conditioned enough to be enthralled with the new, broken personalities his companions have taken on after being beaten down, lied to, and manipulated all over again.

He tries to pretend he doesn't want to throw up at the sight of himself in the mirror, the dark bags under his eyes and the delirious stare he holds. He pretends he doesn't here the voice at night that keeps him awake, condemning him forever into a hell of guilt and hopelessness. He tries, he's trying, he's trying damnit he can only try so hard to pretend he no longer feels the pulls of weakness begging him to give up.

Instead, he sits on his throne in the castle on the hill that overlooks a city plagued in fire, and pretends he truly enjoys the smell of blood and decay when his heart never really was in it.


End file.
